The Fox and the Miko
by Hope-ItsyBitsySpider
Summary: KagKur "What's your name?" "You're not going to kill me?" The look he gave her was enough answer and she relaxed. "I'm Kagome." The past is the past and the present is all that's left.


**The ****Fox ****and ****the ****Miko**

"When's that shit wearin' off, anyway?" Yusuke asked as the last in the group of grass demons thudded to the ground, head half-severed from the katana the tantei had taken to using recently.

Behind him, seated on the fence circling the large property belonging to Kami-knew-who, the pristine form of the yoko Kurama shrugged idly. "I don't know," he replied, waving a claw-tipped hand airily. "I don't exactly remember how much of the potion I swallowed; I was a bit distracted, if you recall."

"Yeah, yeah." Yusuke tore part of the demon's shirt off and wiped the blood from his blade. "I'm sorta glad I had Hiei give me some sword-fighting lessons..."

A silver brow quirked in vague amusement. "Why _do_ you use that, anyway? What's wrong with your other attacks?"

"Nothing..." The fifty-something year old half demon shrugged half-heartedly, eyes gazing off at the horizon as the sun started to rise on their bloody battlefield. "I guess... The other attacks are lacking something. Finesse. Or maybe enough effort. I don't know. I just don't feel like I'm fighting fair anymore."

Kurama's brow wrinkled in agitation, haughty understanding flowing through him. "It's because of Kazuma, isn't it?" Even after nearly forty years of knowing him, the two hadn't called him by his given name until recently. That was probably half the problem as it was.

Brown eyes met amber and looked away, shame and sorrow combating tired fury and tattered resignation. "Maybe," he said wearily, sighing. "I don't know." His lips pressed together and he abruptly turned away from the oncoming morning. "Come on; I promised Keiko I'd help her with stuff at home."

Kurama nodded and let the dark-haired man go, watching him as he slowly disappeared into the shadows of the forest nearby. He knew what was going on; he knew that Yusuke had yet to tell Keiko and that the tantei was doing all he could to make things easier for her and everyone that knew her. Kurama tilted his head as his sharp eyesight dulled a bit, signaling the change back to his human form.

The kitsune-turned-human chuckled without mirth. One by one, their group was falling into oblivion or death. First it had been Genkai, dying after too many years of over-prolonged life. Then Hiei vanished, right after the death of his best friend (not that he'd ever have admitted that the cancer-ridden Kuwabara was such, but Kurama knew). Somehow, Yusuke managed to keep in contact with the hybrid, but just barely.

Hiei respected the tantei too much to have let their sort-of friendship fall to ashes.

After that, Keiko had started showing signs of cancer as well, and Kurama knew it was only a matter of time. Shizuru only ever talked to Botan anymore, and even the ferry girl had trouble contacting her unless it was by chance or loneliness. Yukina had returned to Makai, and Jin and Toya had taken up the mantle of protecting her; she still didn't know about Hiei, though Kurama had a feeling she suspected. She was still grieving her husband's death and short life, having been unable to stop it.

Now it was only Kurama and Yusuke, and they still wandered around, fighting the demons that occasionally slipped through the barrier and wreaked havoc. The feeling of being mostly youthful around his old friends - he looked closer to twenty than fifty seven - was lonely, and the only solace Kurama could take in it was that Yusuke was the same. Koenma said that after the last of their relatives and close friends died off - Kurama's mother was slowly rotting away and would die in the next few years - they'd have to move to Makai.

It was the only way to do things now, and the demi-god had his men working on either halting Kurama's aging - should that eventually be necessary - or returning him to his original form; the thought that a centuries-old demon could die from something as meaningless as old age was a foreign one.

Maybe it was fate, mused the red-haired man, staring up at the slowly dispersing stars. Maybe everything happening had been doomed to do so from the start. Green eyes narrowed, age prevalent in glimmering orbs if not in face or body. Fate? Doomed? He really was getting too old for this, wasn't he?

For surely that was the case if he'd become some sentimental old fool with thoughts of destiny. He snorted at the very thought, but it was without heat. He was just tired. Truly, the things he'd once craved and yearned for didn't quite manage to catch his attention anymore. He knew this was, in part, his mother's fault, but he couldn't be angry. He'd found more joy in all the years he'd known her than he had in over three thousand years of treasures and comforts.

It was the greatest gift he'd ever been given, and for that, he was grateful.

Sighing, Kurama finally hopped down from the fence, casting one more gaze Heavenward, and looked ahead, intent on following Yusuke into the trees, despite the fact that he'd left over an hour ago. However, green eyes widened when he saw a woman standing there, watching him distrustfully, eyes slowly moving from him to the space to his left. He followed her gaze and saw the blood-soaked earth where they'd killed the grass demons. The demons themselves were already faded from the Ningenkai, but the blood was still clearly visible, whether you were able to see demons or not.

He looked back up at her, only to find that she was gone. He could hear her running. Shit.

Kurama darted forward and caught up in minutes, reaching out and snagging her wrist, only to jerk back in shocked surprise when the touch of her flesh _stung_. She spun around and raised glowing fingertips, tense and only slightly fearful, but all Kurama could do was stare down at his burned hand in wonder. Slowly, though, she relaxed and he finally looked up. He found her eyes strange; a blazing sapphire color that drew him closer despite the increase of fear in her scent.

She backed up against a tree and he gingerly reached forward, inhaling through his nose. She smelled of cherries. Hesitantly, he lowered his hand until it was less than an inch away from her shoulder and stopped. Glancing up at her curiously, he touched her and was burned. His hand twitched away, but he was unperturbed. His other hand moved up, hovering over her other shoulder, but then passing it by to cage her in against the tree.

Her breath caught and her eyes closed, likely expecting her death. But Kurama was quick to disspell that fear when her burning shield finally lowered. He nuzzled her neck gently, remembering vaguely being comforted in this same way when he was but a kit. The sob she let out was enough to make him stop and look up at her, tilting his head in question. But her eyes were closed and she didn't see it, so he finally settled on speaking.

"Are you ill, miko?" he murmured curiously. He didn't understand why she'd suddenly start crying like this, tears pouring down her cheeks in an uneasing downpour. He knew human emotions quite well, but it was still odd, even to his human nature.

She laughed hoarsely at the question and shook her head. "N-no. You... remind me of someone. Someone very dear that I knew a _very_ long time ago."

Ah. Grief then; he knew that intimately as well. "What's your name?"

Her eyes opened slowly, distrust and a bit of nervous fear still in them; he frowned, but she spoke. "You're not going to kill me?" The look he gave her was enough answer and she relaxed, if not completely then a little and that would do for the moment. "I'm Kagome."

"Kurama," he replied, and when her eyes started to tear up again, just at the sight of him, he nuzzled her neck again. He felt the prickle of her powers, but they didn't sting him, and he was pretty sure he knew why. Some how, he was unsure of how it happened, but somehow, she knew at least a little of canine demon mannerisms. He was freely showing her he meant no harm by putting his face in easy reach of such a danger as her miko powers, and in return she didn't burn him.

For that, he was immensely glad.

All was silent for a while, and he eventually moved his hands down to rest on her shoulders, the only point of contact aside from his face in her throat. Her sobs soon dwindled to sniffles, then nothing, and she finally relaxed completely, apparently realizing that he'd do nothing to harm her. Even if he tried, he knew she could simply purify him and that would be it, though he didn't know how effective it would be with his human shell. Still, he wouldn't test it to see.

He was a little surprised when, after what seemed like forever, her hands hesitantly moved up and wrapped around his back, subsequently pulling him a little closer. In response, he dropped his hands further down, encircling her waist, and dragged her tightly against him. She squeaked in surprise, her powers stirring, but she held them back at the last moment, fear in her scent again. He realized after a moment's consideration that it wasn't fear for her, but rather for him, as if she truly didn't want to turn him to dust with her abilities.

The thought was shocking, but welcome; he didn't want to be dust, thank you very much.

She relaxed again after a little while, content to stay that way, despite the forever that seemed to pass them by. Eventually, though, after what seemed like hours but was probably closer to half of one, he pulled back and met her gaze curiously. "Sit with me?" he asked, smiling down at her.

She hesitated, but nodded. "Alright."

Kurama glanced around and found a felled tree a few feet away - _Hiei__Was__Here__,_ he thought wryly when he glimpsed the clean cut of the trunk - and lead her over. He sat down in front of it, leaning back against the wood, and pulled her down into his lap. She was a little stiff at first, but eventually curled up against his chest and let him stroke her hair. Truly, she was as sad as Yusuke had been lately, though perhaps her sorrow was a little more worn, from time. Her grief was long-standing and aged.

"Tell me about him, this person I remind you of," he demanded gently, wrapping both arms around her waist to hold her there against his chest.

Her eyes, which had closed, opened and met his own, the sadness tinged with resignation. "His name was Shippo, and he was only a kit when I met him..."

Kurama's green eyes closed slowly, and he let her soft voice wash over him, and knew that he would always protect her, from here on out. No one else would do so, if he could help it. And help it he would.

**I ****thought ****this ****was ****rather ****sweet****. ****There****'****s ****quite ****a ****bit ****of ****fluff ****and ****angst ****in ****here****, ****but ****it****'****s ****a ****very ****good ****one****-****shot****. *****grins***** ****I ****hope ****you ****liked****! ****XD ****R****&****R****, ****don****'****t ****just ****fave****/****alert****!**


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